Toledo is a small “world heritage” town 30 minutes by train from Madrid. Since it’s very “Spanish” and is connected to Don Quixote, it’s a Mecca for Madrid tourists – most people in my hostel were planning on going there at some point. The city IS beautiful – old architecture, small quaint streets, and views from the hilltop city make it a pleasant place to spend a couple hours. But with my train schedule, I was there for seven hours, which ended up being far too long. For most of the day, I would walk a hundred meters or less, then sit in a shady spot for 20 or 30 minutes, just pondering and watching the city go by, before moving on to the next free spot. This is all fine and good when you’re with someone else, or enjoy spending a day simply doing next to nothing, but I had neither of these. Although beautiful, it was endlessly dull. And I got sick of my own repetitive thoughts. Eventually, with only a five minute walk from the train station with an hour to spare, I resorted to sunbathing. Normally, I regard tanning as a complete waste of time, but on this occasion, what else was I going to do? Besides, at the rate I’m going, I will have a wicked farmer’s tan in only a couple days, so sunbathing might help smooth that line out a bit.
Finally my train left back for Madrid. I had another 2.5 hours to kill before my train to Lisbon, so I spent a leisurely evening in el Parque del Retiro, and got a couple bocadillas (sandwiches) and an ice cream before heading to the station with half an hour extra. It was only after some searching that I realized I was at the wrong station. Although I rushed and finally arrived frantic at the correct station, the language barrier and being in an unfamiliar place had taken their toll: I was five minutes late for the train. The trains are never late. And worst of all, I had planned on sleeping on that train.
So, stuck in Madrid with no place to sleep, I was lower than I’ve been in an awfully long time. I made my way back to the hostel I’d been in the previous two nights and begged for a place to sleep. Just my luck, they had an opening on the couch which I gratefully took. And even more luckily, my roommate was a fun Californian girl with whom I could banter.
One of the worst things I’ve found about travelling is that you rarely get the chance to joke around, truly laugh, or have light-hearted conversations. Most people you meet aren’t terribly social, are traveling with other people, or are downright awkward/creepy. So whenever you do find a soul that you connect to, you consider yourself very fortunate indeed.
What a day. One minute doing nothing, then running around franticly. How like life.
